Way Down at the Bottom of Everything Where It’s All Mixed Up and Everyone Is Everyone

I meet my sister. As long as we’re here,

I tell her, I might as well say it out loud—

I never liked you. You had a way

of looking on me in my distress.

You threatened calamity

when it seemed you might not

get your way. You don’t understand

what you’re doing, is what you’d say.

Oh, I remember it all, how you went

from room to room telling each one

the other said this, the other said that.

You knifed the couch, you knifed the chairs.

Be careful, you said.

Way down here

at the bottom of everything, everyone

has a knife, everyone has a way.

You keep talking, you keep saying

whatever it was you said. You

keep on, you don’t understand—

down here, at bottom, you’re dead.